


Licorice and Mint - Book 1 - Part 1 - Clinic Visit

by elle_and_em



Series: Licorice and Mint [1]
Category: Dungeons and Dragons - Fandom, Original Work
Genre: Coming of Age, Dungeons & Dragons 5th Edition, Dungeons & Dragons References, F/F, LGBTQ Female Character, Original Character(s), Punk Rock, Slow Burn, Urban Fantasy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-08
Updated: 2020-10-08
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:29:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26896720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elle_and_em/pseuds/elle_and_em
Summary: A fateful trip to a late night clinic changes the course of two lives forever.Note: This work contains quoted lines from The Damned.  All rights to lyrics belong to the creator and recording artist.
Series: Licorice and Mint [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1962421
Comments: 2
Kudos: 6





	Licorice and Mint - Book 1 - Part 1 - Clinic Visit

**_“_ ** _I gotta new rose, I got it good  
_ _Guess I knew that I always would  
_ _I can't stop to mess around  
_ _I got a brand new rose in town”_

_~ The Damned - “New Rose” ~_

========================================================================

"Fuckin' waste of time", Vola muttered as she pushed through the exam room door and back out into the empty lobby. The lavender skinned woman darted past her and attempted to block the exit.

  
"Wait! No! I can fix it. I promise!"

  
"You just said you don't do magic healing here."

  
"Well...we don't--"

  
"So fuck slowly petrifying to death in the Lower Silks, I'll take my chances."

  
"But I can!" the woman pleaded, hopping back and forth in front of the door trying to prevent the half-orc from leaving.

  
"Make up your fuckin' mind!"

"Look! I can heal you with magic, but I'm not supposed to. It was part of the deal that I made to get assigned here. No magic. Just medicine. But,” she added as Vola grabbed the woman by her shoulder and shoved her to the side. “But! If I have some explanation as to why I couldn't cure Slow-grade Petrification using modern medicine, which you can't, then I can justify it!"

  
The hunter paused, her hand on the door handle.

  
"Just let me heal you, while you tell me the story and give me this, as proof in case I need it", the doctor begged as she brandished a large serpent fang. "You get cured. I get the proof I need to keep my clinic and we both don't spend tonight wondering what if."

  
Vola half-turned and cocked an eyebrow. "What if what?"

  
Natalyiah smiled sheepishly, "What if we had tried harder?"

  
Vola looked down at her hand. Already the veins of stone had begun to spiderweb from her forearm. She sighed.

  
"Deal."

  
The Aasimar doctor smiled widely and bounced in place. Grabbing Vola's petrified hand, they both jerked back, freeing her from the door.

  
"Great! Okay okay okay! Back into my office. No windows and we won't be seen. Wow! This is exciting! Who knew there were demon hunters in New Darpana Bay."

  
"There aren't."

  
"What do you mean?"

  
"Just like you can't cure me with magic. There are no demon hunters in Endib."

  
“Endib?”

  
“NDB. New Darpana--”

  
"Ohhhh riiiiight riiiiight. So, tell me about this um..." The doctor twirled the monster tooth in her fingers. ".....Snaaaaaake that bit you, miz...um..."

  
"Vola."

  
"Hi Vola, I'm Dr. Natalyiah Shaviantar."

  
"Can I call you Nat?"

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

  
Back in the office, the doctor checked and double-checked out the door to ensure no one could see inside. Vola shifted uncomfortably from one foot to another, curling and uncurling her fist and wincing. Fuck, this thing hurt.

  
“Oh, don’t do that,” Nat called back. “That’ll just make it worse. Take a seat on the bed and please remove your shirt, I’ll be right in.” She bounced away and opened a medical cabinet, rapidly pulling supplies from the shelves. This woman seemed entirely too excited by basilisk wounds. Vola should have followed Ahroun’s advice and cut off the hand hours ago. 

  
Nervously she settled on the bed and set her backpack on the floor. Then she began the laborious task of peeling her bloody black thermal over her head. The first arm came out fine, but the cotton caught on the rapidly scabbing gash over her stomach and yanked it open again. Vola bit down hard to keep from swearing and forced herself to breathe through her nose. The thermal was caught halfway over her head, twisted around the slowly-petrifying arm. “You’ve dealt with worse, you’ve dealt with worse,” she muttered to herself. “You’ve dealt with worse…”

  
“You’ve dealt with worse? That sounds like a story.” Unseen hands pulled, and Vola was greeted by the doc looming over her with a small pair of scissors. Her long silver hair was now twisted into a neat bun and she’d donned a white apron with a gold logo of the Church of Nakshatra. Without her coat on she looked younger - early twenties, if that. At Vola’s stare the woman blushed, her lavender skin turning a faint shade of pink. “I think we have to cut the rest off. I’m sorry. I hope you didn’t like this top.” 

  
Vola sighed. “It’s fine.” Probably better not to tell the doc that it was her only shirt, and every cent she had was currently sitting in the backpack at her feet. A small price to pay for a hand. As the other woman began to peel the bloody cloth away, Vola forced herself to watch. Dark arcs of poison wove their way around her arm, the veins on her hand oil-black. The gash itself glinted dully in the lamplight, the skin around it tight as a drum. Her stomach rolled at the sight. “Please.” Vola swallowed, hating the quaver in her voice. “You’re sure you can fix it?”

  
The other woman met her gaze and the hopeful glitter in her blue eyes made Vola stop short. Nat’s mouth curled into a smirk. “Absolutely.” Without another word, she pressed her palm to the wound and muttered a few words in a dialect Vola didn’t recognize. Flickers of heat traveled like liquid lightning through each vein. The obsidian around the puncture glowed red, tiny cracks fracturing the surface. Piece by piece, it began to shatter and slough off. 

  
Nat rubbed her hand across the surface of Vola’s skin, brushing the scab. “There we go. That’ll take a minute to work all the way through, but you--” she trailed off at the look on Vola’s face. “Ohh, you should probably lay down.” Gently, she pushed Vola onto the bed. Vola didn’t resist. As the unfamiliar mattress cushioned her, she let out a breathless laugh of relief. She wasn’t going to lose it. 

  
Nat hovered anxiously over her. “I’m gonna take a look at this wound on your stomach, okay? I want to make sure it doesn’t get infected. The magic I used is good for taking poison out, but I’m gonna have to treat this one the old-fashioned way.”

  
Vola caught her hand as she started to move away. “Thank you Doc.” 

  
The other woman squeezed her fingers reassuringly. “Happy to be of service. And please, call me Nat.” She released Vola and turned towards the table, sliding on a pair of gloves. “You don’t have to worry. I won’t tell anybody. It’s just...the worst thing I usually treat is a concussion. Or gout. Or a broken wrist. You know. Normal stuff. I don’t really get the chance to…” she trailed off shyly and shrugged with a smile. Vola found herself returning it.

  
The warmth had traveled through her arm and was now making her way through her shoulder and back. A feeling of safety and quiet permeated the small exam room. Nat worked by the light of a single lamp, swabbing the wound on her stomach with saline wipes. At her silent offer of a hospital gown, Vola waved it away. Modesty was for folks with money and more than one shirt. 

  
“Soooo…..did you get it?”

  
“Hmm?” 

  
“The...erm. Snake.”

  
“Oh.” A small smirk decorated her face. “Yeah. We got it.” 

  
“Yeah? Is this the first time you’ve hunted one?” Nat asked the question casually, but the gleam of curiosity in her eyes wasn’t lost on Vola. Oh well. The woman had saved her hand. She’d probably earned the right to the truth.

  
“First one we’ve hunted this size. We got a tip that one had found its way into the sewers and laid a nest down there. I guess it ate a maintenance worker.”

  
“That’s awful!”

  
“Yeah..” Vola winced as Nat patted the stomach wound dry. “Is it bad?”

  
“It’s not great,” she admitted, “But it missed your intestine and your vital organs, so you won’t bleed out or go septic. You’re going to need stitches. And you need to stay off your feet for a while and lay flat so it doesn’t break open again.” She ripped open a sterile package and threaded the needle with a filament thinner than wire. “So, how do you kill one of these things anyway?”

  
“Truthfully? Hack it to death.” Vola took a moment to appreciate the doctor’s bedside manner. Distract the patient, keep them talking, and it’s done before you know it. “I found a bit in a book at the library that talked about eating the heart of a rooster to protect yourself against petrification, but I couldn’t find anything else that backed that up, so I figured it was an old wives’ tale. Now I kinda wish I tried it.”

  
Nat wrinkled her nose. “That’s definitely an old wives’ tale.” She snipped a loose end of thread. 

  
Vola smirked. “You ever get the feeling that sometimes people throw stuff in those books just to fuck with the reader?”

  
“Like some sadistic author just really wanted to watch people throw salt over their shoulder and dance in circles?” Nat chuckled. “It wouldn’t surprise me.” She gently laid a sterile bandage over Vola’s abdomen. “All done. Any other major wounds I should know about?”

  
“Those were the big ones.” Vola slowly tried to sit up and Nat put a cautionary hand on her shoulder. 

  
“Easy, easy.” A worried look came into her eyes. “Do you...have someone who can pick you up?”

  
Vola hesitated for a moment. “Not really.” At the other woman’s raised eyebrow, she added, “No.”

  
“I obviously can’t make you stay. But, do you need a ride somewhere? Is there anything else I can do…?”

  
“No. Thank you. You’ve done a lot already.” Vola bent down to retrieve her backpack, wincing again, and Nat waved her hand dismissively.

  
“Don’t worry about paying me--”

  
“I’m going to pay you,” Vola said firmly, in a tone that brooked no disagreement. Retrieving a roll of bills, she placed the entire thing into Nat’s hand. “I don’t take charity.”

  
Nat stared blankly at the roll, neatly held together with a hair tie. “But this is way too much money.” Ignoring Vola’s tone, she unwound two of the hundred-piece notes and shoved them back into Vola’s hand. At her look, she said, “Really, it is too much. Fortunately for you, I make change.” She smiled. 

  
Vola stared down at the other woman, speechless for a moment. She swallowed. “Thank you.”

  
“Really. It’s okay.” Nat seemed to notice Vola’s nakedness for the first time. The slight pink tinge returned to her cheeks as her gaze flickered quickly back up. “Do you, um...do you need a spare shirt?”

  
Vola once again opened her mouth to say no, then remembered. “Um, actually…”

  
“Here!” Nat hurriedly walked over to a plastic trash bag lying in the corner. “You’re probably a woman's large, right?” Fishing a shirt out, she walked back over to Vola. _CHURCH OF NAKSHATRA 5K FUN RUN_ was plastered across it in bright yellow letters. “We got a bunch of these donated from the marketing team for...well I’m not sure, but this is a great reason come to think of it. Let me know if it’s not the right size.”

  
Vola slipped the cotton over her head and glimpsed herself in the exam room mirror. Her dreads were tangled and messy, she still had blood on her face, and her arm was glowing. She couldn’t help but let out a short laugh. “Yeah, it’s perfect. Thank you.”

  
“Good!” Nat folded her hands in front of her. “Oh! Do you mind if I…” she pointed to the basilisk fang lying on the tray.

  
Vola waved her hand. “Please. Keep it.” Shouldering her backpack, she made her way towards the door. “I definitely don’t want it.”

  
“Wait.” Nat shoved a package into her hand. “I’d be a bad doctor if I let you go without any aftercare. Now remember, wash out your stomach wound twice _daily_ with saline until it starts to heal. If there’s any signs of infection, and I do mean _any,_ you need to come back and see me, okay? The wound on your arm will be okay shortly, but you’ll probably feel exhausted and need to eat something in a couple hours.”

  
“Thanks Doc,” Vola replied. “Really. I appreciate it.”

  
“It’s Nat,” she reminded gently.

  
“Nat, then.” She nodded.

  
“Are you sure you don’t need a….” she started to ask, but Vola had already closed the door behind her.“....ride somewhere?” Nat sighed. 

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The hunters’ hideout was on the north edge of New Darpana Bay. Vola walked along the edge of the highway next to a dark cornfield, backpack slung over one shoulder. The stitches in her stomach pulled and she knew she should have called a cab, but the risk was too great. She knew better than to lead anyone back home. What they were doing was a service to the city, but it didn’t mean they saw it that way. Better to burst a couple stitches than to risk Ahroun’s anger.

  
The area was dark and quiet, but that didn’t mean anything. Vola was careful to step over the tripwires and noise traps that littered the property leading up. No flashlights were allowed on the premises, but between her darkvision and the full moon, she didn’t need it.

  
As Vola stepped into the house and through the sound ward, the chaos hit her like a wall. Following the noise, she made her way through the hallway and into what used to be the house’s living room. The house was a shell of what had once been a very lovely cottage. Now water damage had made large brown stains on the walls and ceiling. Brown shag carpet had been matted down with years of wear. Bare mattresses and sleeping bags were scattered across the living room. In one corner stood a stack of boxes bristling with weapons, books, and artifacts. In another corner stood a card table littered with pills in every color of the rainbow. Two open syringes were wrapped neatly in paper towels. Cerise and Victor were noisily fucking in a corner, while the rest of the group milled around, ignoring them in favor of cleaning weapons or stripping off bloody gear. 

  
As usual, Vola entered unnoticed at first. It was Doran who first caught a glimpse of the half-orc as she set down her backpack. “Holy shit, you’re back! Your arm--” He rose to his feet, the piece of pizza on the paper plate falling to the floor, forgotten. “You’re healed?! How the fuck did you pull that off?”

  
Cerise squealed with joy and jumped off Victor to give Vola a hug. Vola managed a weak grin and hugged the younger woman, who stood there in nothing but a too-small tee shirt and demanded to know whose arm she’d had to break to find basilisk antivenom in Endib in the middle of the night.

  
“Of course Vee would fight to save her jilling-off hand,” Victor called from over in the corner, which earned him a laugh and the middle finger from Vola.

  
“You’re back,” a voice interrupted from the kitchen. The chaos died down and Vola turned to face the red dragonborn whose towering frame filled the doorway. Carhartt jeans, combat boots, and a white undershirt still spattered with black dried blood - he hadn’t changed yet. They must have gotten home only shortly before her.

  
“Yeah,” Vola said coolly, shifting back on her heels. “I decided Victor was right.” A murmur of snickers rippled through the group. 

  
“You found a Church healer then?” he asked, voice gravelly. The beady yellow eyes tracked to the logo on her shirt. “Thought they rated half-orcs somewhere below cockroaches on the give-a-shit chain.”

  
“Nah,” she lied smoothly. “Dahl knew a guy who knew a guy who happened to have antivenom on hand. Turns out it’s a hell of a hallucinogenic, if you take it in small doses. But that shirt was ruined. I picked up this one from a thrift store on my way back.” 

  
“Hmm,” the dragonborn grunted. “And you didn’t tell your munchkin fuck toy how you got hurt?”

  
Vola arched an eyebrow, insulted. “Who do you think I am?”

  
He grinned, teeth showing. The moment of tension was gone, as quickly as it had appeared. He slid a slice of pizza onto a paper plate and held it out towards her. “Glad you didn’t have to cut it off, Falone. We need you with both hands.”

  
Vola accepted the pizza gratefully. “Thanks, boss.”

  
After a few moments of eating and socializing, Vola made her excuses and said her goodnites for the evening. Her mattress was adjacent to Victor’s, but she’d constructed a low wall between the two of them with her books to give herself some privacy. She settled in with a bottle of Maker’s Mark and quickly swallowed two Vicodin, washing them down with a gulp. Her stitches ached and every muscle screamed exhaustion, but she couldn’t sleep. As Cerise and Victor continued with their noisy sex, Vola shifted to her side and turned off the desk lamp that sat by her mattress. Her tee shirt still smelled like the clinic. Clean. Fresh. The only shirt she had now, and soon it would be dirty like everything else. 

  
As she closed her eyes, the image of the purple-skinned doctor kept floating to the surface. What had she said her name was again? Nataliyah? Nat. She barely knew the woman, yet she’d lied to Ahroun about her. Something about the hopeful look in her eyes, the gentle eagerness to help, had made Vola hesitate to tell the hunters about her. The latest in a long line of small lies to this group that was supposed to be her family. She shifted uneasily at the thought. 

  
She’d buy herself a new shirt in the morning.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Street lights reflected in the window as Nat leaned on the door of her MazeCar as it sped through the Lower Silk Districts up to Concordia Heights. It was late. Well...late for her. She watched with amazement as she saw the nighttime city unfold. This was the world she wanted to see outside the church campus, but hadn’t had freedom to do so since the clinic opened. It had been 6 months and all she had seen were patients, her girlfriend, and the skyline from her apartment. It was frustrating. The whole purpose of a _rumspringa_ was to taste what the outside world has to offer, to test her faith against the imperfections and poisons of the world. However, her girlfriend was not letting that happen.

  
It was almost 9pm now and Mara had been blowing up her phone since the clinic closed. Nat kept her phone off during business hours, and since that half-orc came in bleeding out and nearly petrified, she never had the chance to turn it on until now. She felt bad she didn’t call beforehand, but if she had, Mara would have shown up, kicked the injured woman out, and sent her to the nearest ER. That hunter would be dead right now, and she would be getting another speech about ending her _rumspringa_ early. The entire treatment was a blur, but she recalled the name as she rolled the basilisk fang between her fingers. Vola. 

  
The half-orc had been stubborn, but accepted the healing. She had convinced someone to let her try. And that flow of magic moving through her into the wound? 

  
Pure catharsis. 

  
The gravity of a hard turn snapped her from her thoughts, and she glanced down at her phone. 

_  
Where are you?_

_  
Are you angry?_

_  
I’m worried._

_  
Should I call the police?_

_  
Did you want to do pizza and a movie?_

_  
I’m sorry I yelled at you about wanting to have sex._

_  
Please answer._

  
Nat rubbed her temples. She was trying to be understanding of her girlfriend’s anxiety, but this was getting out of hand. This was Nat’s chance to shine. Her chance to live, her chance to breathe...heavy? 

  
The car had pulled to the curb. A quick glance out the window showed only the familiar lights of the Silk Market District. Still miles from home.   
  
  
“Um...excuse me?” She peeked her head up front, and immediately exited the car, re-entering on the front passenger side. Mara’s voice in her head nagged her. _Safer in the backseat,_ she said. _If you have to take a Maze Car, always sit in the backseat_. She shoved the annoying voice away and focused on the driver. A young human man, with a blue and red slicked back mohawk. He had several facial piercings and wore a denim jacket covered in patches of what she assumed were bands. Slumped over the steering wheel, he looked unconscious save for the ragged gasps shaking his body.

  
“Hi there! My name is Doctor Natalyiah Sha….”, she shook her head and started again. “Hi! My name is Nat. I’m a doctor. Do you need help?” she said observing the man’s skin color and eye movements. 

  
He turned his head enough to look at her. “F-f-fine...just n-n-nerves.”  
  
  
“You’re clearly not fine. May I check your vitals?”, she asked sternly.  
  
  
He weakly nodded, and she proceeded to check his pupils, pulse, and broke out her stethoscope to hear his heart. Her mind ticked through several boxes, and landed back on a diagnosis.  
  
  
“Okay, it’s just an anxiety attack. Just keep taking deep breaths. Talk it out with me if you need.”  
  
  
The human sat back in his seat and took a deep breath. “I just started this job and I’m not used to this traffic, and normally I have music playing , but I got yelled at about it, so this is a new level of nerve-wracking. And if I hit one of these expensive ass cars then how the fuck do I afford that?”  
  
  
She nodded solemnly at this, and opened her mouth to respond when yet another text message notification came up on her phone.   
  
_  
I’m calling the police._

  
She let out a noise of frustration and politely smiled at the human. “Pardon me a moment.”, and made the call.  
  
  
“Yes! I’m fine! No! Look I had a late patient and I will tell you about….! No! Excuse me?! Wha... Fine! Take your pizza and go home! I want to be alone tonight anyways! Fine! Bye!”

  
She threw her phone into the car floorboard and remembered the mental state of her driver. Nat turned and smiled sheepishly. “Ah-ha...sorry about that.”  
  
  
He weakly smiled back, “You having a rough one too?”

  
“Yeah. Long day.”  
  
  
“Ah.”  
  
  
They sat in silence as the driver’s breathing began to slow. Nat simmered in the passenger seat. Why did it feel like she was still on the church campus? All those endless rules…

  
She shook her head. She shouldn’t be feeling this way. She should be basking in that bliss of using magic again. She saved a life tonight and brought warmth to someone. She got to see the city come to life after sunset. This wasn’t how the night was going to end.

  
“Play your music.”  
  
  
“What?”  
  


“I don’t care. I won’t say anything. Play your music. In fact, take a longer route. Take the one you know best...I’ll pay for it.”

  
The human man visibly relaxed, “You’re serious?”

  
Nat let her mind drift back to those moments just sitting with that woman, Vola. How they talked so freely despite being so different. A soft pink blush came to her face when she remembered seeing the woman put on that t-shirt. Stoic but now with a layer of soft vulnerability to her. And she made that connection by just being herself. Mara wasn’t worth the stress of losing this feeling. She would drag this moment out.  
  
  
“Yeah. Totally. I get to sit up here though. For um...medical monitoring purposes.”, she smirked.  
  
  
“Oooookay. Fine. Your call Doc.” 

  
A wave of exhaustion hit her. “Nat”, she sighed. “Call me Nat.”  
  
  
“Tellis”, the man said and shook her hand. “Okay, I think I’m good to go if you are.”  
  
  
She nodded and leaned back into the car seat almost drifting to sleep when a tinny voice snapped her out of her reverie. 

_  
“Is she really going out with him?”_

  
A jumble of guitars and drums emanated from Tellis’ car speakers, eventually assembling themselves into a simple rhythm, as a frantic sounding man began to sing.

  
 _I got a feeling inside of me_ _  
__It's kind of strange like a stormy sea_ _  
__I don't know why, I don't know why_ _  
__I guess these things have got to be_

Nat rolled the lyrics around her mouth, letting them sync up with her own feelings. She blinked her eyes a few times as the barrage of rock music assailed her ears.

  
“What is this!?”, she shouted  
  
  
The driver turned the volume down and merged seamlessly into traffic. “It’s The Damned!” He noticed her holy symbol, “Sorry I mean….”  
  
  
Nat smiled mischievously at him, “Fuck it! It's fine! I meant what is this!?” She twirled a finger in the air.  
  
  
Tellis returned the smile, recognizing a new spark in her eyes. “It’s punk rock! You like it!?”

  
Nat let the chorus of the song roll off her tongue quietly,  
  
 _  
I gotta new rose, I got it good  
_ _Guess I knew that I always would  
_ _I can't stop to mess around  
_ _I got a brand new rose in town_

  
She turned back to Tellis and took a moment to think, “Fuck yeah! Turn it up!”  
  
  
Natalyiah banged her head in time to the music while taking in the night life. Her phone continued to vibrate between her legs competing with the chaotic barrage of drums and guitars that came from the speakers. 

  
She had this amazing music, this amazing trip and the memory of a grateful smile from a woman who brought magic back into her life. As the car veered onto the express lane, she uttered a silent prayer to Shatrava that wherever Vola was, that she was safe, and maybe one day she would see her again. 

=======================================================================

  
  


  
  
  
  
  



End file.
